


Seek

by ferbiedragon



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: caeson clay is my clay sib oc alright, im livin my best life, listen, sometimes you just gotta write what feels good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 22:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferbiedragon/pseuds/ferbiedragon
Summary: The Clay family is scattered to the wind, each seeking a way to stop the encroaching corruption of their home. Caeson Clay is no different; it has been near twenty years since they saw any of their siblings, including Caduceus. They've filled that time with journeying, honing their skills as a Bard, as a necromancer, and as an adventurer. Accompanied only by their Familiar, Heratio (who prefers animals skulls to solid physical forms) they have traveled far from home on their journey.They're injured and healing when the feeling of dread overtakes them, and they understand suddenly that something terrible has happened to Caduceus. Overcome with the need to find him, and with the Wildmother to guide them, they will journey across the world as quickly as they can, all on a quest to reunite with their brother.





	Seek

**Author's Note:**

> listen. LISTEN.
> 
> i made caeson a... long time ago, and i love them a lot. and after the events of recent episodes, i was overcome with the need to write with them. we'll see how far this goes...

_Seek, my dear, and you will find him._

Caeson Clay wakes with a sharp inhale, the words of their Goddess echoing in their head. 

They sit up, and then regret the haste of their movement when their arm twinges with pain; though the bone is set and splinted, and although firbolg tend to heal quickly, it will be a handful of days before it doesn’t hurt with the slightest movement. They suppose that’s what happens when one gets on the bad side of a basilisk. Although they aren’t sure if there’s a good side, either. Or a side at all. 

“Boss?” Heratio’s temporary skull flits up, trailing spectral energy as he goes. Caeson blinks, slowly, drawing themself out of the remnants of sleep. “Everythin’ okay? Looks like you saw a ghost!” the sparrow skull pauses, then dips to one side. “Well. Like you saw a scary ghost.”

“Ghosts aren’t scary.” Caeson says, clearing their throat. “I’m alright, Heratio. Thanks for asking.” they smile, slightly, but it must not seem like their usual one, because Heratio doesn’t look convinced. 

“You kinda woke up sharp.” Heratio informs them. “All gaspin’ and stuff. And yesterday you were all, ‘I feel like somethin’ bad happened’, so…”

“Something bad did happen.” Caeson confirms. They don’t like lying to Heratio; he’s their familiar, their closest friend. “I felt it. Something happened to Caduceus… just for a bit, but it was there.” they shift, sliding their legs out of the bed. They take a minute to gather their strength before they stand. 

“That ain’t good.” Heratio offers, hovering up nearby, like he wants to offer them support when their knees are a little weak, although a tiny sparrow skull isn’t much good for that. “What kinda ‘somethin’’ happened, you think?” He pauses. “You sure you oughta be gettin’ up? That healer guy said…”

“Ah, don’t worry about me.” Caeson shrugs one shoulder. They pick up their binder with one hand and struggle to fit it on, wincing whenever they’re forced to move their splinted arm. It takes some considerable effort to get it on. The bandages around their lower back are stiff with medicine, and it’s hard to move. “It felt, uh… not good. About Caduceus. I asked the Wildmother last night for some guidance.” they pick up their shirt; Heratio holds up the sleeve of their injured arm while they shrug into it, bobbing with each movement.

“What’d she say, boss?” he asks. He doesn’t need his mouth to speak, at least.

“Mm.” Caeson hums quietly, like they do when they’re thinking hard about something; they’ve done it since they were a child, but Heratio’s the only one who’s ever pointed it out before. 

They think of their dreams. Of warm breeze and a field of flowers, the familiar smell of moss on damp stone. They remember the soft caress of a matronly hand down their cheek, and eyes so full of love it makes their chest swell even now to think of it. And they remember the voice in their head, and the path stretching out before them. 

“Boss?” Heratio’s voice draws them from their momentary diversion. They blink, and then clear their throat. 

“She didn’t say much.” Caeson tells him, picking up their sling. They’ll have to get the innkeeper to tie it on; Mistress Franny is fond of them and will probably do it without argument. They’ll also need to ask her to brew some tea, the sort that eases pain. They hurt all over, and they would like to stay in this bed, warm and comfortable and healing, in this room they’ve rented, but… 

“Where’s my bag?” they ask, turning their head. “We’re going to find Caduceus.”

 

++

 

There are, of course, a few issues to work through first.

“You don’t even know where he’s at, boss!” Heratio argues, flitting back and forth in front of them. Caeson is seated just outside of the inn at the small picnic table, soaking up the warm sunlight, while Mistress Franny- or Francine Fellfoe, as she was once known, a large and pleasant orc woman- ties the sling around their neck and helps them settle their arm into it. 

“The Wildmother will guide me.” Caeson answers, easily enough. They take a sip of their tea, comforted by the herbal taste. “I know which way we ought to go.”

“And how far is it?” Mistress Franny asks. “I don’t really like the idea of you running off while you’re still hurt, young one.”

“Hah… I’m pretty sure I’m older than you.” Caeson laughs faintly. No matter- she always calls them that, and they always remind her that they’re older, and it never changes anything. It just feels like tradition, now. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to this whole adventuring thing.”

“I can see that.” Franny’s voice is dry, and she tightens the knot on the sling to prove her point. “You never come limping into my inn all hurt and troubled at all. That never happens.”

“Adventuring’s dangerous.” Caeson adjusts their arm. “That’s just part of it, you know?”

“It wouldn’t be so much a big part if you weren’t so dang reckless, boss.” Heratio argues with them. “And that’s sayin’ somethin’, comin’ from me!”  
“I’m not reckless.” Caeson says, considers, and then amends, “I’m not usually reckless. Not this reckless, anyway. It’s just all part of the deal.”

“Bothering a basilisk,” Franny starts, “Does not have to be ‘part of the deal’. Plenty of folks go out travelling and don’t end up worried about like a big snake’s new toy.”

“I didn’t know it was there.” they smile slowly, eyes half-lidded. 

“That’s a lie.” Heratio mumbles. “Those gnomes told you it’d been botherin’ them, but you still-”

“It’s alright.” Caeson stands, stretching slowly. The sun feels nice on their fur. They down the last of their tea and turn. “It’s all alright. It’s gone now, and we made it through. I’m sorry about your drake skull, though.”

“The skull’s not the point!” Heratio zips around angrily. “I guess it’s annoyin’ to be stuck in here but if I get killed, you can just- summon me back! I get extra chances. But you squishy mortal folks-”

“I don’t know if I’d called firbolgs mortal, precisely-”

“Don’t argue semantics, boss! You almost got killed.” Heratio hovers in front of their face, fuming. “You barely made it out with your hide still on, and now you wanna run off across the fuckin’ kingdom to find your brother? Before you’re healed, even, and ignorin’ all the trouble brewin’ now-”

“The Empire and Xhorhas won’t stop fighting anytime soon, like as not.” Franny sighs. “You might end up walking right into the middle of it.”

“Wars happen.” Caeson twitches an ear. “But I’m not worried about a war right now. Or traveling, or danger. I want to see my brother.” they nod. “That’s all there is to it.” 

After a moment, Heratio sighs loudly. “Cripes, I know there’s no arguin’ once you get that look on your face.” he mumbles. “Stupid stubborn idiot. I can’t believe I keep lettin’ you summon me.”

“You love me.” Caeson smiles and reaches up, tapping the fragile skull with one finger. “We’ll be alright.”

“You’ll take precautions, is what you’ll do.” Franny says, eyeing them both. She puts her hands on her hips. “Listen now; plenty of seasoned adventurers come through my inn every day, as you know. And a lot of them are looking for work. You’re in no fit shape to travel without help, young one.”

“I’m not in the worst shape.” they tilt their head. “I can still walk.”

“I’ll wager you can’t fight, though.” Franny sniffs. “So sit still for an hour or two and let me put up an ad for you. We’ll find you a bodyguard, until you’re better.”

“Well I don’t know if I need…” Caeson starts, then pauses. Mistress Franny is giving them a sharp look, the kind that says ‘do not argue with me’. They sigh, and sit back down at the table, nodding. “Alright.”

“Good.” Franny smiles. “I’ll get started. You go into town and get a few supplies. A horse, maybe. And see the healer before you go anywhere!” she turns, sweeping off into her inn. 

Caeson sighs, softly. They turn to look at the sky, off into the distance, where it feels like the wind is tugging them. “I’m on my way.” they murmur.


End file.
